Why I am still in South Africa

Why I am still in South Africa

As a comparatively young professional with many of my peers overseas, I regularly get asked the ultimate question. No, it has nothing to do with the answer to life, the universe and everything (which, thanks to Douglas Adams, we all know by now is 42!) The question is why I still remain in South Africa. Why I don’t pack up my Samsung Tablet, my laptop, my book collection and relocate to pastures greener. Most definitely greener, with more zero’s at the end of the month’s income.

After being presented with this question repeatedly, I realised that some introspection is needed. I tenaciously cling to my home in Great Brak River, sometimes swim upstream in a highly competitive and overcrowded industry, and face it; the income is not at a level where I can finally buy that dream Harley Davidson cash. There is also of course the fear factor. Violent crime increases almost daily with bold black headlines screaming from every street pole, announcing yet another life that’s come to an end prematurely. No one can live in the zone of “it will never happen to me”. That is akin to ostrich head-in-the-sand syndrome, and will more than likely lead to disaster.

It does seem easier to join the exiting droves – there will be no blame – the future certainly seems challenging in this country. Somehow I find that it doesn’t seem like a good option to me. I’ve lived in another country for five years, and never got over the yearning of wanting to “go home”. There is something about living in South Africa that permeates one’s being, and that never quite lets go.

I love the culture of being a South African. I love the wide open spaces, the extreme contrasts, the freedom. I love biltong, and “braai-broodjies”, and I love the all-embracing hospitality of the platteland.

Also, I’m an entrepreneur. I love discovering and learning and sharing ideas. I love taking on a challenge and showing my mettle. In another country, where I will be an alien trying to make a living, I will never quite have the same rights or experiences as a citizen-born. I will probably always feel, like I did before, that I am occupying a space that by rights should’ve been someone else’s.

Here, I have clients that I’ve known for years. Familiarity will probably be the final card I play. Working with clients that have become friends is important to me. I love seeing a business grow, teaching skills to clients that empower them, and knowing that I’ve made a difference, however small.

If we all leave, what will be left for the next generation? I choose to stay and be part of the positive change that must happen.